


More than a sad tale

by FirenzeSun



Category: Black Sails
Genre: M/M, Post Season 4, but more like in the background, established flinthamilton, in the end it always comes down to the tits tits of storytelling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-14
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-05-06 19:45:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14654874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FirenzeSun/pseuds/FirenzeSun
Summary: After everything, Silver comes to find Flint to tell him that they were more than just a tragedy.





	More than a sad tale

"They say we're a tragedy," Silver answered when Flint finally asked what he was doing there. The silence had been unbearable, now that Thomas had left to give them privacy and the pressure from the things left unsaid between the two had grown too big.

"Weren't we?" Flint scoffed, recalling the chains that had tied his hands and broken his heart.

"But that's not all we were," Silver replied and there was an edge of desperation in his voice, as it was a silver lining of hope that he was desperately holding onto.

"Mr. Silver," Flint smiled but his smile was dark with the sadness of a weary heart, "that's exactly the point." The facade of a smile fell from his face before the next sentence. "I don't know how many books have you read, you never told me that. But you clearly need to read more tragedies. A good tragedy isn't just an unending tale of sad woes. A good tragedy has moments of light before the ending. The brightest those moments the more tragic and deeper the darkness they leave behind in the end. I think we fit the bill perfectly."

"I disagree," Silver said, his voice tight, his eyes even more desperate.

"Then why did you come?" Flint asked and in his voice there was just tiredness.

"We weren't just a sad tale, there was more than that," and by now Silver's eyes shone with unspilt tears, whether they were because of frustration for how stubborn Flint was being or something else, Flint didn't know.

"No, we weren't. But we were a tragedy all the same. And I can't understand what you came to look for here? Is it confirmation that what we had was real? Yes, it was. Or do you want a confession? Do you want me to tell how I felt for you? How you made me feel things I thought I wouldn't ever feel again? Is that it?"

Silver for once didn't answer, words today weren't his friends. But a tear did fall down, he could only fight the words or the tears, not both. And hadn't that been his problem in the first place.

"That's it, isn't it? But why, John? What could you possibly get from it? Have you come to gloat? Did you want to see for yourself how you've been my end?" there was sadness in Flint's words, and anger too. But his anger burned like a dying ember too tired to give a flame.

"No! No, no, no!" Silver exclaimed and got up from his chair. He used his crutch not only to give a few steps closer to Flint but also, to hang on to it. To have at least something tethering him.

"No, you haven't ended! I gave you back to Thomas. I didn't end you, I gave you a new chance. You're supposed to be _happy_!"

Flint laughed from his position in his chair. He hadn't flinched, hadn't moved when Silver got closer. You see, you need energy to do any of that.

"Power has really gotten into your head, hasn't it? You truly think that Long John Silver has such a wide reach?" he scoffed once more. "No, you still aren't quite that powerful, John. You reunited me with Thomas, true, but that's all you did. You've sent me as a slave, you took away everything I've built for a decade and you expect me to be fine just because you've reunited me with the man I loved a decade before?"

Silver hated the way his name sounded on Flint's lips, like a mockery. But more he hated the ending of their tale.

"You don't love him anymore?" and his voice was small, fearful.

"I do, and he still loves me. But neither of us are the men we were before. We stay together because the thought of separating is unbearable, but we can't have back what we once had. We're way too broken for that."

"I thought being with him would free you from the persona you had fabricated, that I was giving you the chance to be who you once were," Silver said looking to the floor admitting defeat was not easy.

"No, it doesn't work that way. I always had this darkness inside me. I reckon Thomas knew of it even then an accepted it. But-" and Flint's voice turned softer, "Captain Flint was born from the heartbreak that James McGraw suffered. He was the creation from that tragedy, the tragedy I lived with Thomas. But this," he said and he pointed at himself with his hand, "this is the product of the tragedy Captain Flint lived through, our tragedy."

"No," Silver said softly, unbelieving. His leg barely held him, and he would have walked back towards his chair if he thought he could give a step without falling. "You can't be possible comparing what you lived with me to what you lived with Thomas. You can't."

"But I am."

"No, you can't. You can't." Silver was working himself into an anxiety attack. "You can't. You can't." He repeated. "You couldn't have loved me like you loved him. You couldn't."

"John," and finally his name on Flint's lips was like a caress. But it was tainted with worry and Silver had not dreamed of hearing it like this. No, not like this. But it fitted, for he would never hear it the way he dreamed of. He couldn't. Flint got up and held Silver by his arms as he seemed about to fall down. "John, John, look at me. Just breathe, please."

"No, I wasn't enough to stop your war. I wasn't enough. You betrayed me, took the caché. I wasn't enough. Please, don't lie to me. I wasn't enough. I'm not enough. Please, don't lie." Silver sobbed between his litany of words, he wanted to get away from Flint but he was too weak in his state to move, so he had to let Flint held him.

Finally, he got breathless, so he let his head lie over Flint's chest while he kept repeating the same in a low voice. "Don't lie. You can't. I'm not enough."

Flint slowly got him to the floor, where they lied for a while. He held Silver on his arms until Silver fell silent and he wondered if their story would ever get a proper ending.

After a while, Silver spoke into Flint's chest.

"I've heard what they say about us. We are the villains in their story."

Flint caressed Silver's hair, playing softly with his curls. "Has it caught up to you? Does it bother you now?"

Silver moved backwards, just enough so he could look at Flint in the eye. "No," he said, and there was a broken sincerity in it. "I don't care if they say I'm the villain, I can be that. I don't care if they say you were the villain. But- but they're saying we were enemies. "They're saying you _feared_ me. That we wanted to see each other dead." Silver breathed hard, tears once more gathering in his eyes. "They say that I betrayed without a second thought, that I enjoyed bringing you down, that it was my most victorious moment."

"Why does that bother you?" Flint asked his hand now holding Silver's cheek. He could guess why but he needed to hear it.

Silver raised a hand, and pressed his thumb against Flint's beard.

"Because it's not true. All I did, my best and my worst, was because I loved you. I loved you in a way that scared me senseless. It still does," Silver confessed, his blue eyes shone with fragility.

Flint wanted to kiss him, but they needed to clear the air between them first. So he lay his forehead against Silver and spoke.

"I know what you were trying to do. I know that first and foremost you wanted me to survive. And I'm sorry I didn't understand you back then. That I couldn't see the way that my war was tearing you up. I know what was in your heart when you took me to the plantation. But couldn't you see that I was heartbroken of losing you? Getting Thomas back wasn't enough."

Silver sobbed once more. "I didn't want to believe it. The idea of you loving me like I love you is more terrifying to me than my own feelings for you. I don't deserve it."

Flint kissed his forehead and Silver sobbed harder. It was a wet kiss with Flint's silent tears. "Why do you think that?"

"I- I'm not good enough. I'm no one. Just a thief and a liar who's good with words, but nothing more. Fuck, I'm not even whole. I'm a thief, an invalid, a liar, a broken piece of-"

"Stop it!" Flint held his face with his hands and looked him strong in the eyes. "If only you could see yourself the way I do. How you were my only light in the darkness. You're beautiful, John, inside and out."

Silver surged forward, this was it. Their lips found each other and it was a passionate desperate kiss. The time spent together and the time spent apart, all pouring into one kiss. It lacked finesse, their teeth clashed and their tongues didn't know how to dance together. But Silver moaned and Flint grunted. Silver climbed onto Flint's lap to kiss him harder, closer.

Not long after they had to break away to pant. Tired happy smiles adorned both their faces.

"I love you, James," Silver said, because he had to say it. Even if just once. Even with the hope that somebody somewhere would see the words in their story.

The tiredness seemed to leave Flint for the space of the realization. His smile broadened , became more lovingly and genuine. "I love you too, John," Flint replied, because he would speak that which the stories silenced.

When they kissed again, the kiss was soft. It held only love.

They kissed there, sitting on the floor for almost an hour. They took breaks when they just hugged each other and reassured the other how much they meant for each other. They laid there with no more barriers between them. They still had things to talk, things to settle, plans to make. But not tonight.

Tonight, Flint grabbed Silver's hand and took him to his bedroom. They didn't undressed fully, they had healed and exposed themselves too much already. So tonight, they would just hold to one another and reassure themselves that what they had was real and present, beyond truth and fabrication.

When Thomas arrived, he founded them tangled together, deep in their sleep. He looked at James, the lines around his eyes were softer. He was more complete now, not longer pulling in two opposite directions. He was not whole, not yet, but maybe he stood a chance of healing now.

Thomas had mixed feelings about Silver. He wasn't sure what to think of his actions. But looking how he held Flint, how he embraced him tightly, as if afraid to let go, he thought they could reach an understanding. After all, somebody who loved Flint as much as he did could not be all that bad.

So the stories would keep saying that Long John Silver betrayed Flint in cold blood for a treasure. And the stories would say that Captain James Flint was a sadistic monster. The stories would be about blood, violence and greed. There would be no room for love and smiles at the edge of a cliff. And as time passed, people would forget that one time Captain James Flint fell in love with his quartermaster. And they would ignore how Long John Silver loved his captain.

Maybe, somebody somewhere in many years to come would find their stories and read between the lines. Maybe something would survive them and somebody would see the truth and new stories could be told. Or maybe not, and their love would be buried alongside the bodies of history's losers. But it didn't matter.

Because in that house in Savannah, Flint and Silver held to each other. They knew the truth. Their stories wasn't just a sad tale but so much more. And if their story was a tragedy? Well, it depends on who you ask, but they'll have to agree, that above all, it was a love story.

**Author's Note:**

> So like, I had to word vomit this. It was eating me up, and boom here it was. When will Flint and Silver let me go. Never probably.


End file.
